Translations. - Another Christ-Song. (Luther's Song-Book.)

From heaven the angel-troop come near
And to the shepherds plain appear:
A tender little child, they cry,
In a rough manger lies hard by,

In Bethlehem, David's town of old,
As Prophet Micah has foretold;
'Tis the Lord Jesus Christ, I wis,
Who of you all the saviour is.

And ye may well break out in mirth
That God is one with you henceforth;
For he is born your flesh and blood--
Your brother is the eternal Good.

He will nor can from you go hence;
Put you in him your confidence.
However many you assail,
Defy them--He can never fail!

What can death do to you, or sin?
The true God is to you come in.
Let hell and Satan raging go--
The Son of God's your comrade now!

At last you must approval win,
For you are now become God's kin:
For this go thanking God alway,
Happy and patient every day. Amen.

George MacDonald

George MacDonald (1824–1905) was a Scottish author, poet, and Christian minister best known for his fairy tales and fantasy novels. He was a pioneer in the fantasy genre, influencing notable writers such as C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. His major works include "Phantastes" and "Lilith," as well as numerous poems and other literary works. MacDonald's writings are characterized by their imaginative qualities and deep spiritual insight.

George MacDonald

Truth, Not Form!

George MacDonald, Simple Poetry

Bedtime

George MacDonald, Simple Poetry

Second Sight.

George MacDonald, Simple Poetry

Morning Hymn

George MacDonald, Simple Poetry

English

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Translations. - Christmas. (Luther's Song-Book.)

Jesus we now must laud and sing,
The maiden Mary's son and king,
Far as the blessed sun doth shine,
And reaches to earth's utmost line.[1]

[Footnote 1: Luther's own construction.]

The blessed maker of all we view
On him a servant's body drew,
The flesh to save at flesh's cost,
Else his creation had been lost.

From heaven high the Godlike grace
In the chaste mother found a place;
A secret pledge a maiden bore--
A thing to earth unknown before.

The tender heart, house modest, low,
Straightway a temple of God did grow:
Whom never man hath touched or known
By God's word she with child is grown.

The noble mother hath brought forth
Whom Gabriel promised to the earth;
Him John did greet in joyous way
While in his moth...

George MacDonald

Translations. - A Song Of The Little Child Jesus, For Children At Christmas. Taken Out Of The Second Chapter Of The Gospel Of St. Luke. (Luther's Song-Book.)

From heaven high I come to you,
I bring a story good and new:
Of goodly news so much I bring,
Of it I must both speak and sing.

To you a child is come this morn,
A child of chosen maiden born,
A little babe so sweet and mild
Your joy and bliss shall be that child.

'Tis the Lord Christ, our very God.
He will you ease of all your load;
He'll be himself your Saviour sure
And from all sinning make you pure.

He brings you all the news so glad
Which God the Father ready had--
That you shall in his heavenly house
Live now and evermore with us.

Take heed then to the token sure--
The crib, the swaddling clothes so poor:
The infant you shall find laid there
Who all the world doth hold and bear.

Hence let us all be gladso...

George MacDonald

Translations. - Advent. (Luther's Song-Book.)

Come, saviour of nations wild,
Of the maiden owned the child
That may wonder all the earth
God should grant it such a birth.

Not of man's flesh or man's blood
Only of the Spirit of God
Is God's Word a man become,
And blooms the fruit of woman's womb.

Maiden, she was found with child,
Nor was chastity defiled;
Many a virtue from her shone:
God was there upon his throne.

From that chamber of content,
Royal palace pure, he went;
God by kind, in human grace
Forth he comes to run his race.

From the Father came his road,
And returns again to God;
Unto hell it did go down,
Up then to the Father's throne.

Thou, the Father's form express,
Get thee victory in the flesh,
That thy godlike power in us
Make si...

George MacDonald

Translations. - Epiphany. (Luther's Song-Book.)

Herod, why dreadest thou a foe
Because the Christ comes born below?
He seeks no mortal kingdom thus,
But brings his kingdom down to us.

After the star the wise men go:
That light the true light them did show;
They signify with presents three
This child--God, Man, and King to be.

In Jordan baptism he did take,
This Lamb of God, for our poor sake;
Thus he who never did a sin
Hath washed us clean both out and in.

A miracle straightway befell:
Six pots of stone--they saw, who tell--
Of water full, which, changing, heard
And turned to red wine at his word.

Praise, honour, thanks to thee be said,
Jesus, born of the holy maid!
With the Father and the Holy Ghost,
Now, and henceforward, evermore. Amen.

George MacDonald

Translations. - A Song of Praise for the Birth of our Lord Jesus Christ. (Luther's Song-Book.)

Praised be thou, O Jesus Christ,
That a man on earth thou liest!
Born of a maiden--it is true--
In this exults the heavenly crew.
    Kyrioleis.[1]
[Footnote 1: (Greek) kurie elxaeson: Lord, have mercy.]

The Father's only son begot
In the manger has his cot,
In our poor dying flesh and blood
Doth mask itself the eternal Good.
    Kyrioleis.

Whom all the world could not enwrap
Lieth he in Mary's lap;
A little child he now is grown
Who everything upholds alone.
    Kyrioleis.

In him the eternal light breaks through,
Gives the world a glory new;
A great light shines amid the night,
And makes us children of the light.
    Kyrioleis.

The Father's son, so God his name,
A guest into this world he cam...

George MacDonald

Translations. - A Song Of Thanksgiving For The Benefits Most Great Which God Hath Shown To Us In Christ. (Luther's Song-Book.)

Dear Christians, let us now rejoice,
And dance in joyous measure;
That, of good cheer, and with one voice,
We sing in love and pleasure
Of what to us our God hath shown,
And the sweet wonder he hath done:
Full dearly hath he bought it!

Forlorn and lost in death I lay
A captive to the devil;
My sin lay heavy, night and day,
For I was born in evil.
I fell but deeper for my strife
There was no good in all my life,
For sin had all-possessed me.

My good works they were worthless quite,
A mock was all my merit;
My free will hates God's judging light,
To all good dead and buried.
Me to despair my anguish drove,
Down unto death my soul did shove:
I must be plunged in hell-fire!

Then God was sorry on his throne
To see suc...

George MacDonald